March 22, 2015: Jeremiah 34:31-34 & Psalm 119:9-16

Becoming Lighter

Year B, Lent 5                                                                  

                                   

            After my husband was first ordained to the priesthood, he thought it would be funny to absolve me after I sinned.  In our ordination service, the Bishop says that as priests, we are tasked with proclaiming God’s forgiveness after confession.  That is absolution. Really, all Christians are encouraged to forgive others.  The difference is that priests are specifically tasked with proclaiming forgiveness and we have a special hand motions that go along with it. My husband thought this was one of the perks of being a married couple who are both priests.  The problem is, I didn’t confess to him.  I might have said, “Oh I should not have done this or I should have done that.”  But I was not asking for absolution from my husband.  It was really problematic when we did not agree that I sinned.  That was the day when my husband stopped absolving me unless asked…which very rarely happens.   

            Lent is a season when we talk a lot about sin and forgiveness.  That is reflected in the readings, the prayers, the music and at St. John’s, the use of Rite 1. The readings and the opening prayer for today are no exception to this theme. Today’s opening prayer starts with a typical Lenten language. It reads, “Almighty God, you alone can bring into order the unruly wills and affections of sinners” (that’s us).  But it goes on to say, “[Grant] that our hearts may surely be fixed where true joys are to be found.”  This is a perfect prayer for us today.  It reminds us that we need God to forgive one another and ourselves.  We cannot do it on our own. In addition, it notes that our hearts are to be focused not on sin, but on God.

            The Bible provides many wonderful examples of forgiveness.  But it is God in the Old Testament and God embodied in Jesus in the New Testament that provides us with the best examples.  If there is anyone who doesn’t need to forgive, it’s God.  We have fewer than 100 years of sins that might need to be forgiven.  God has an eternity of sins that have been committed against him.  Can you imagine?  If God was like us, he would never sleep; not because God doesn’t need to sleep but because he would be stressing out all night thinking about all the ways people had sinned against him.  And not only does he have an eternity of sins, he has all the people in all of the world who are sinning against him.

            It makes me wonder how he does it. God has an interesting technique that Jeremiah talks about.  He says, “I will forgive their [sin], and remember their sin no more.”  He doesn’t just forgive.  He chooses to forget their sin.  When I read this in Jeremiah, I was surprised.  God is supposed to be all knowing.  How can he just forget stuff?  It’s intentional.  He chooses to forget.  In doing so, he creates the ultimate blank slate.  He doesn’t just wipe the sins away, the slate is demolished.  Those sins are never going to come back.  God is never going to say, “Hey remember when you did such and such… That was messed up!  I hope you don’t do that again.”  That new slate isn’t really a slate at all.  It is a new heart.  Jeremiah says, “...I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they will be my people.” God will engrave his love on our hearts, souls and our and our mind.  It is not a fickle love that comes and goes.  It is there forever.  God asks us to try to love him and others in the same way.  That requires certain openness on our behalf, a willingness to risk.

            We have all heard the phrase: “forgive and forget.”  That is what God is doing.   I am envious of that gift.  I am grateful for the times when I have been forgiven, but I think I would prefer it if it was also forgotten.  I would also prefer not be able to remember certain things.  Then I would not have to forgive because I didn’t remember.  Then again, that would not be forgiveness would it?  It would be selective amnesia.  Alas, God never takes the easy way out and neither can we.  He allowed himself to be crucified.  In doing so he bore the weight of our sins so that we would not have t. It doesn’t get much harder than that. 

            I wish that when I read the absolution after the confession and made the sign of the cross… I wish that we could really believe that-- that you would feel that a weight has been lifted from you.  Unfortunately, it doesn’t always feel like that.  It’s hard to just read the words and here the response, without getting any meaning out of it. Instead, we are going to try a little visualization.  Consider for a moment a difficult memory (not your most difficult or something traumatic), something  you wish God would forget (like an unkind word or deed that you carry that keeps you from fully experiencing the love of God).  Hold it in one hand.  Then consider a betrayal or unkind word or deed that someone did to you.  It might be serious or not, but it haunts you for some reason.  Put that in your other hand.  Hold each in your hand and hear the word of God: “I will forgive their inequity, and remember their sin no more.”   Let go of the sin that you committed, that you wish God would forget.  God already has.  The other one is harder because you were hurt.[1]  You have to forgive that person who hurt you and probably never apologized. Take the next 2 weeks work on letting go of the wrong that had been committed against you remembering that God already has.  Then when you come on Easter, come with the knowledge that not only are you here to celebrate the resurrection of Christ, but to discover the new life that is within you.  I know it sounds easier than it is.  Remember that God never took the easy way out and neither can we. It might help to think of Psalm 119.  One line says,  “With my whole heart I seek you…”  If we were to use our whole heart to seek the Lord, we would not have any room in our heart for painful memories or things we have done.

            The last verse of Psalm 119[2] says “I will not forget your word.”  There are some things that we can let go of and some things or words that we must never forget.  The more we forgive, the more room we will have in our heart for the life giving words of Jesus Christ and his unconditional love.  Life is far too short to live in the ruins of sins we have done and ones that have been done against us.  Instead, let us choose life, a life free from burdens that weigh us down.  At least let us be lighter, so that there is more room for joy and love.

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[1] Commentary by David Lose: http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=1508 This exercise was his suggestion.

[2] Psalm 119 has 176 verses. I am referring to the last line of portion of the Psalm that we read today.

March 15, 2015: John 3:14-21

Walking through the Darkness

Year B, Lent 4            

                                                                        

Some of you may have heard of the Netflix original hit called “House of Cards.”  The show centers around a political power couple who are both cunning and at times diabolical.  There was a scene in episode three where the very powerful main character (Frank Underwood) questions himself and the idea of justice.  He goes to the church at night to meet with the bishop. He tells the Bishop “I understand the Old Testament God, whose power was absolute, who ruled through fear. But Jesus?” The Bishop responds, “There's no such thing as absolute power for us, except on the receiving end... It's not your place to choose which version of God you like best…. You serve the Lord, and through Him you serve others. Two rules: Love God, and love each other. When the Bishop leaves, Frank looks at the crucifix and says, “Love. That's what you're selling. Well, I don't buy it.” 

I thought of this scene as I was reading the Gospel for this week.  This reading starts in the middle of a story.  Nicodemos was a Pharisee and the Pharisees had a great deal of power in these times. They were the authorities on the scripture and the law.  Some of them supported Jesus, but many were suspicious.  We see throughout the Gospels that Jesus was fairly critical of them. He was not one to kowtow to those in authority.  Nicodemos was curious and open minded, but also suspicious.  He went to Jesus under the cover of darkness because he did not want others to know that he, a religious authority would have to ask someone like Jesus a theological question.  In the dark, he and Jesus ended up having an enlightening conversation.  

Our reading for today picks up at the very end of the conversation when Jesus told Nicodemus something that would go on to be the most famous quote from the Bible: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not parish but have eternal life.”  This has become a bit of a rallying cry for Christians over the years and I am not sure why.  The only thing I can figure out is that it concisely sums up some critical parts of our faith.

What I find mystifying about the popularity of this text is that it renders us, the people of the world, powerless.  Think about it. God so loved the world that he gave his only Son.  Whose idea was that?  Which one of us would have made that suggestion had God asked us?  We can’t know because God never asked anyone if it was ok if he sent his son to die for us.  Because if he had asked me, I would have said no thank you.  Thanks, but no thanks.  I would have asked God to go back to the drawing board on that one.  There must be another way to give us eternal life.  There must be a less violent method.  But God didn’t ask us.  He just did it.  And now we have to live with this knowledge that God loves each of us so very much that he sacrificed himself for us.  And there is nothing we can do about it.  In the face of such sacrificial love, we are powerless.

Frank Underwood, the character from House of Cards chose not to believe in such a God.  He decided that if this was the kind of love that Jesus was providing, he would pass.  And while most of us would not say, or possibly even think that, we act like it.  We act as though we have some power over God…that we have any power in this relationship.  But we don’t.  We choose to believe.  We can choose to pray or go to church.  We cannot choose how God loves us or how God shows that love.  One of my favorite writers and theologians, David Lose, said it best when he said, “God loves us; whether we like it or not.” 

No. We cannot determine how God loves us.  We choose how to respond to that love.  We choose whether we will share that love with others.  We choose how we love God in return.  In today’s passage, we do not hear how Nicodemus responded to Jesus.  Unlike some, he did not decide immediately to follow Jesus.  He took some time.  Nicodemus showed up two more times in the Gospel of John.  The 2^nd time, he was there to defend Jesus to his peers.  He did not defend him as the Son of God or Messiah.  He said that Jesus deserved a fair hearing.  Nicodemus defied his peers when he defended Jesus in this way and took a huge risk.  Nicodemus did it in the daytime. 

Nicodemus returned one more time after Jesus was crucified.  He was one of the two people who anointed Jesus after his death. It was Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea who put Jesus in the tomb.  Jesus had told him that the Son of Man must be lifted up.  Maybe seeing Jesus being lifted high on the cross was the moment when Nicodemus realized what that love truly meant.  In that moment, he made a decision.  He could run away and hide like so many of Jesus’s disciples or he could choose, choose to participate in God’s radical and relentless love.   He no longer waited for darkness to approach Jesus.  He chose to be a point of light in the darkness.  In some people’s eyes, he was probably a fool, to give up such a powerful post in the Jewish tradition.   He wasn’t giving up power.  He was admitting what was true and real.  The only power we have is a gift from God. The way that Jesus displayed his power was to die in a way that seemed weak.  In doing so, he transformed the world.  He turned everything upside down, much like his mother Mary predicted in her famous speech known as the Magnificat. She said, “He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.”[1]

We all have a choice.  We have a choice that we make every day. We can follow Christ. We can love others and love God. But the choice is not whether or not we allow God to love us.  We are powerless in the face of such love.  It is priceless.  It is not for sale.  God’s love will follow you to the grave and beyond.  The question is, will far you follow him? Holy Week is only a few weeks away.  Holy Week gives us all a tangible way to follow Jesus as he shares a final meal with his disciples, as he washes their feet, as he stands trial for crimes he has not committed, as he dies on a cross, as he is buried and finally as he destroys death and is resurrected.  Come to at least one of our Holy Week services.  Don’t do it because I have asked you.  Do it so you can experience the depth of God’s love.  In order to appreciate the light, you must first walk through the dark.

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[1] Luke 2:52-53

March 8, 2015: John 2:13-22

When Ruins Become Resurrection

Year B, Lent 3                                                       

            When I was first ordained, I never imagined that I would serve at a historic parish.  I am still not sure that I am called to serve at historic parishes in general as much as I am called to St. John’s specifically.  What I found most appealing about St. John’s was their story of continual rebuilding.  This site we are on now is the 4^th site of this church.  We have been on this site since 1728 and this building has been though three wars.  It has been burned and pillaged.  It has been rebuilt.  And that is what has fascinated me the most about the history of this church, the rebuilding and the tenacity of the community itself.

            Of course, I confess that I am occasionally guilty of the bragging rights that come with being the oldest English speaking church in continuous existence in America.  I have been known to refer to certain 300 year old churches as contemporary.  I also like to put air quotes around the word “historic” when it is describing any church that is not St. John’s.  It is slightly obnoxious, but I just can’t help myself at times. 

            I was thinking about my pride in this church as I was reading this Gospel reading regarding the Temple in Jerusalem.  Religious authorities had a lot of pride in the temple.  Jesus wasn’t always a fan of religious pride. This Gospel story is one that surprises people.  It does not fit into the image that people have of Jesus.  People picture Jesus with a lamb over his shoulders and children on his lap.  They imagine him teaching and healing.  They don’t usually picture him with a whip driving animals and people out of a temple while overturning tables and in general causing a scene.  This is not the peace loving Jesus who we imagine in our heads.  Yet it was clearly an important event in the life of Jesus because all four Gospel writers recorded it. 

What was it that got Jesus all riled up?  There are a lot of theories about that.  Since he said, “Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” some people have assumed that he was angry about the fact that people were selling animals in the temple.  This is possible but unlikely.  Selling animals was a necessary part of the temple system.  People were supposed to make sacrifices and most people did not travel with sacrificial animals.  So it made sense to sell the animals at the temple. Others have said that Jesus was not upset that these animals were being sold, but that they were being sold at an unfair price.  The sellers were taking advantage of people and profiting from these sacrifices that were meant for God alone.   This makes more sense in light of Matthew, Mark and Luke.  In those three Gospels, Jesus tells the people that they have made his father’s house a den of robbers.  But he does not say that in John’s Gospel.  He just tells them to stop making his father’s house a marketplace. 

             I wonder if what he really meant was that they were making the temple a market place for God.  It was as if they were implying that they had exclusive rights to God…that people would only be in God’s presence when they were in the temple.  This was especially a concern in a time when there were many people who were ostracized from the temple.  Not just anyone could go in the temple, which means that God’s love was limited. Jesus knew that this was not the case.  He knew that God was everywhere, present at all times.  Jesus also knew that his life, death, and resurrection would transform how and where people perceived God.   He wanted to introduce that change now. 

            The people who had the power in the temple were angry that Jesus thought he had any right to call this holy temple his father’s house.  So they asked him for a sign…presumably a sign of his power.  His response was even more troublesome.  He said, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”  They were astounded. The temple that he was standing in had already been under construction for 46 years and it wasn’t even finished yet.  And this carpenter was going to destroy it and build a new one in 3 days?  But Jesus was not talking about a temple made of bricks and mortar.  He was talking about his body.  His body was where God dwelled.  And his body would be destroyed in the crucifixion, but in three days in would be raised.

Jesus was not saying that God was not present in the temple anymore.  He was saying that God was not limited to the temple and no human institution had control over God’s presence.  No person or religious body could say that some people had access to God and some people did not.   That is what got Jesus all riled up.  People weren’t just trying to control money and power; they were trying to control God.  They were trying to limit who had access to God.

http://www.loc.gov/pictures/resource/cph.3g06697/

            One of my favorite images of St. John’s, is the painting that depicts the church right after the burning of Hampton.  It is called “the ruins of church at Hampton.” During the civil war, the town of Hampton was burned down.  The one structure that was left standing were the walls of St. John’s.  I have always loved this image because it conveys the strength and sturdiness of the church.  Recently, I discovered a new perspective.  The walls remained, but the doors, the windows, and the roof were gone. There is an openness to that image that is refreshing.  I imagine God’s presence overflowing from the open windows, doors and roof.  There are no limits on the expansiveness of God’s love. It’s like God’s love is breaking down the doors.  It is bursting out.

Obviously, since then we have rebuilt the roof, the windows and the doors.  Yet what if we were to adopt that image of the wide open church in some way? We could rename that painting.  It would no longer be called “ruins”, it would be called “resurrection,” not because of the building that it would one day be, but because of the opportunity that we have been given again and again to rebuild.   Since we now have actual windows, doors and a roof, the members of this historic church are called on to be our windows and our doors.  We are the connection to the church and the community.  We are here to tell the community that there is no limit to God’s abundant love.  It is overflowing and walls cannot contain it.  We, the members of St. John’s are to be the vessels of Gods overflowing love.  Not only that, but we too are temples of the Holy Spirit.  God dwells in us and even our walls cannot hold that.